


I'll Crawl Home To Her

by Nerdy_Badger_Mole



Series: Like Real People Do [1]
Category: Good Girls (TV), Good Girls (TV) RPF
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Pregnancy, Reader-Insert, Sick Character, Sickfic, Sleepy Cuddles, Soft Rio (Good Girls), Soft!Rio, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-12-01 21:48:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20909138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nerdy_Badger_Mole/pseuds/Nerdy_Badger_Mole
Summary: I am back! Hello!No real plot here. Just fluff and some tender loving care.Please enjoy this mindless fluff :)I highly recommend you readDanger Coming Overfor this to make sense





	I'll Crawl Home To Her

When we woke up for a second time, he was smiling again.

It was only when she saw that his face was flushed and clammy, his eyes glassy that her own smile fell from her face.

“Hey,” she said calmly. “How are you feeling?”

“Better now that you’re here,” he slurred slightly.

“Come on. Be serious,” she huffed in amusement.

He just shrugged and closed his eyes and she sighed at his antics, though he was a little more coherent he was still sulky about being hurt and wouldn’t always tell her what was wrong. This time, though, he seemed to be back to how he was when he first appeared soaked in blood.

She tugged the duvet down gently and looked at his wounds and while they hadn’t reopened, the skin was red and inflamed. She gently touched the puffy skin and found it hot to the touch. Infection.

She got up and checked her cabinets and she thanked her lucky stars for her own fragile immune system that she had some antibiotics left. One full course of ciprofloxacin that she would have had to throw out because of the pregnancy would now be put to full use.

She got him a glass of water and sat back down on the bed, her ever-growing belly making it slightly uncomfortable and awkward.

“You’re gonna have a baby?” he slurred looking alarmed.

“Yes, Christopher, I’m having a baby,” she laughed.

“Who’s the dad? I’ll kick his ass,” he grumbled deliriously. “You’re my girl.”

He pouted cutely and she laughed through her worry at how funny he looked compared to the usually composed gangster.

“Christopher,” she whispered conspiratorially.

“What?” he whispered back, eyes comically wide.

“It’s your baby,” she whispered slowly.

His eyes were the size of dinner plates before his face split into a wide grin. “My baby’s havin’ my babyyyy.”

“That’s right,” she chuckled. “I need you to do something for me, though.”

“Anything, anything, anythin’,” he mumbled, head rolling on the pillow.

“I need you to swallow this pill and drink this whole glass of water,” she said slowly.

He frowned for a moment before slightly shrugging and grabbing the pill and swallowing it dry.

“Drink the water, babe,” she prompted, holding the back of his head as he chugged it down in one gulp.

“Anythin’ for my baby who’s gonna have my baby,” he sing-songed.

“Do you think you can eat something for me?” she tried.

“Any. Thing,” he said seriously. “For my baby who’s havin’ my baby.”

She smiled at him and went to the kitchen to fix him some lentil and soy mince stew and make him some green tea. They were gonna nip this infection in the bud.

She fed him half of it before his flushed face suddenly went pale. Thankfully she had thought ahead and had put a bucket by the bed in case of ‘emergencies’. He heaved into the bucket and she winced at the sound, rubbing his back gently until he flopped back onto his propped pillows face pinched in pain.

“It’s okay, babe. You can try and eat later. You can drink your tea and I’ll bring you some yoghurt in a bit to help your stomach.”

“Feel like shit,” he mumbled.

“I know. Give it a couple of days.”

She checked that he hadn’t reopened his wounds and she squeezed his hand in comfort before going to clean out the bucket.

She got him his yoghurt and found that he had already drunk the green tea with honey that he normally despised with a passion. She fed him some plain yoghurt and he thankfully kept it down before he started to doze off.

After getting a bowl of cold water and a face towel, she got onto the bed beside him and she saw him somehow rearrange himself with his head in her lap, slightly curled up. She dabbed his forehead with the cool cloth and he sighed and wrapped an arm limply around her waist.

She smiled down at him and ran her hand over his head and she said a silent prayer for him.

**

He only woke up the next day, having slept for about an entire 24 hours, and his fever had already broken, probably from sheer stubbornness.

Though his fever had broken, it had still taken out a large chunk of his energy and he spent most of the day asleep. Any time he did wake up, he still seemed to be sleep-talking and rarely made any sense unless he was enthusiastically agreeing to do anything she asked.

She fed him and he thankfully kept it down and even went so far as asking for more green tea which shocked her to no end.

They spent most of their time in bed, his head in her lap which became his favourite spot. He would lie there and rub her belly whispering nonsense to the baby who he had taken to calling his ‘jellybean’. She hoped to God he would remember that later.

It was nice, it was like being in their own little bubble and even a little delirious, Christopher was still a sweetheart if not more of a sweetheart.

“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbled when she walked in with more food for him and another pill.

“What?” she laughed. She was only wearing an oversized T-shirt as she was outgrowing a lot of her clothes rapidly.

“You’re so beautiful, baby,” he repeated emphatically.

“Shut up,” she laughed. “You’re half asleep,”

“I said what I said,” he insisted. “How’d I get so lucky?”

“I should be asking you the same thing,” she said sitting down next to him and taking his hand.

He just looked down shyly and shook his head, his cheeks flushed in embarrassment rather than fever and she squeezed his hand.

“Hey, Christopher,” she whispered conspiratorially.

“What?” he mumbled.

“I love you,” she whispered.

The grin that stretched across his face worth all the blood and puke.

It was all worth it to hear him say that he loved her too.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed that! This idea has been knocking around my head in every art history lecture I've had to grit my teeth through.
> 
> Updates will be sporadic because one does not simply survive art school.
> 
> The title of the work is from Work Song by Hozier and the title of the series is another song also by Hozier. Hozier is love. Hozier is life.


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